


Lot 61

by Marston1889



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abuse, Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Angst with a Happy Ending, Burns, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor Needs A Hug, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Forced Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Imprisonment, Ken Doll Android Anatomy | Androids Have No Genitalia (Detroit: Become Human), Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Photography, Protective Hank Anderson, Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-11-24 19:44:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20913089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marston1889/pseuds/Marston1889
Summary: The RK800 was one of a kind.  After the revolution, many people had a hard time letting go of their property.  The chance to own a rare model was a gesture of wealth and power.  The fact that it was illegal didn't seem to matter.





	1. Chapter 1

** _[Rebooting]_ **

** _. . ._ **

  
  
  


** _[Error]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Running Scan]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Damage to Cranial Plate "FHX24"]_ **

** _[Damage to Cranial Plate "RTX12"]_ **

** _[Damage to Cranial Plate "THX41"]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _Welcome RK800._ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[What happened to me?]_ **

** _[Exiting Standby]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Reboot: 47% Complete]_ **

** _[Activating Audio Processors]_ **

"...extra cost for the discretion, as you would understand." A man said.

A hand curled around RK800's chin, tilting the head upwards. The android was seated, hands resting neatly on its lap. It didn't move on its own, just leaning and shifting as hands guided its head and shoulders. The hand curled around its wrist and raised it.

** _[Reboot: 75% Complete]_ **

** _[Activating Optical Units]_ **

The RK800 blinked, eyes focusing in its hand being held in the air, palm facing out. There was a man gripping his wrist, holding it up to be viewed, tapping along the synthetic skin and describing the recent software updates installed. He had several key software updates that had been installed recently.

** _[Scan Software Updates]_ **

** _[Reboot: 87% Complete]_ **

** _[Facial Recognition Scan]_ **

** _[Error]_ **

** _[Stress Levels: ^49%]_ **

"That's well and good for any work we want to give it, but what about the damage? You can't possibly expect us to pay that much for something so obviously broken." A woman said. She sat in a small sofa across from them, one leg crossed over the other. She stared at them, nose wrinkled at RK800, eyes flickering up and towards its temple. A cigarette dangled limply between two of her fingers.

"It had a very advanced defense protocol and it resisted, but you asked for a rare android and so you have to take whatever condition you could get." The man said. His grip tightened around the RK800s wrist 

The woman shifted her weight, leaning more on her side and resting her chin in her hand. She glanced at the man and then back on the android.

"How do know this is even the one from tv?" She asked.

** _[Reboot: 93% Complete]_ **

** _[I don't like this.]_ **

** _[Stress Levels: ^64%]_ **

"How many of these things do you see walking around? It's one of a kind." The man said. He released the androids hand and then quickly grabbed the hair, pulling the androids head back, barring its neck. "You're the collector, Miss Winters. Did the RK800 ever mass production?"

The woman held the cigarette to her lips, the glow of the ember brightened. She was pondering the question. It was left unanswered in the room for too long. The RK800 felt compelled to answer. 

** _[Inquiry: Did the RK800 model ever reach mass production?]_ **

** _[Error: Internet Access Restricted]_ **

** _[Accessing Database]_ **

Finding the information, facts listed out, and the android felt some relief in it. Information scrolling before him creating a clear picture of his model and his purpose.

"No, The project is only registered as a prototype series and only a few specialized models were created." The android said, answering the man's question.

** _[Stress Level: 64%]_ **

** _[Reboot: 100% Complete]_ **

** _[All systems functional]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Error]_ **

The android waited for a response to its behavior, ready to adapt if the human was pleased by the helpful response or upset over the outburst. There should be answers to questions, there should always be answers.

"I thought you said you wiped it." The woman said, her tone snippy as she leaned forward in her seat.

"It has an internal database of information that I don't delete. Not unless you want to reteach the thing what a spoon is." The man said. The hand in the RK800s hair tighter. It pulled the android's head back farther. An LED on its temple flickered yellow. It processed the display of the color, something sparking along the temple.

** _[Stress Level: ^68%]_ **

It wasn't appropriate, The RK800 decided. The humans weren't pleased, the way their body language stiffened and the man yanked harder on his hair.

** _[Warning: Signs of Physical Aggression]_ **

** _[Activating Unknown Protocol: Deescalate the Situation]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Error]_ **

The RK800 waited in silence. A quick analysis of the situation and the android decided that the humans did not want it to speak. The hand in its hair kept gripping tight, arching its head back and revealing the curve of the androids neck. It was a threatening gesture. The main thirium lines that ran to and from the AI Processor were in an android's neck. They could easily be damaged in this position.

** _[Stress Levels: ^71%]_ **

"I suppose if it is one of a kind..." The woman said. She reached out, fingers lightly brushing over the RK800's temple. "Unless it's a fake."

"It's not a fake."

"You know how these black market purchases are. Androids are so expensive these days and everyone has to be so secretive about it. It can't be hard to put a fake face on an android." She stared down at the RK800. The finger at the android's temple pressed harder, the pressure building as the facial plates seemed to shift slightly.

** _[Warning!]_ **

** _[Damage to Cranial Plate "RTX12"]_ **

** _[Reduce Pressure Immediately: Chance of Further Damage 61%]_ **

"It's already broken. How do I know you haven't made a fake RK800?" The woman continued.

The RK800 ran an internal scan every few minutes since rebooting, making sure the systems come back online without issues. Make sure it was functioning correctly. It was an RK800 unit #313 248 317 - 52. If the unit ran a deeper coding scan it could determine if it was authentic or counterfeit with a faulty face and edited coding.

** _[They don't want me to speak.]_ **

"You know it's real the damn thing was in the news about it missing and I have it now. You won't get me to lower the price this time. This thing is one of a kind and you're not the only collector interested." The man said. He grabbed the RK800 by the back of the neck and yanked it back, the touch of the woman's hand disappearing from its face.

The hand lingered in the air. The fingers curled into a tight fist. The RK800 waited for her fist to drop, the damage warnings just beginning to fade on the hud. When it finally did, the android felt its LED flicker from yellow to blue.

** _[Error]_ **

The android watched the woman's hands. One held the cigarette to her lips and the other settled on her hip, her stance widening slightly.

"Make it take off its clothes." She said. She waved the cigarette in the android's direction, the smoke painting scribbled in the air between them. "I want to make sure you're not hiding any more damage under there."

The grip on his neck loosened and the android wondered if the man would let go. Its processors lingered on the idea of the hands no longer touching it, guiding it.

"Right. I'm sure that's the reason." The man said. The hand moved from the android's neck to tap demandingly on the shoulder. "Get undressed."

** _[Order: Get Undressed]_ **

** _[Remove Shirt]_ **

** _[Remove Trousers]_ **

** _[Stress Levels: ^79%]_ **

The android stood up, analyzing the pressure on its legs for the first time and determining that it was standing stable. It's balance was steady. It reached up and gripped the back hem of its shirt. The fabric was thin and rough, causing slight friction as it was pulled over the android's head.

The woman tilted her head. A smile curled up the edges if her face. The RK800 scanned for damage alone its chest but found none.

** _[Stress Levels: ^83%]_ **

** _[I want to go home.]_ **

The android held the shirt in front of itself, gripped tightly in its hands and wrinkling the fabric. Was it supposed to fold the shirt and waste time in accomplishing its demanded task or if it would be reprimanded for leaving a mess.

The android began to fold it, shaking out the wrinkles. Its attention drifted back to the woman to look for any signs of displeasure. She wrinkled her nose a bit, still smiling.

** _[Facial Recognition Scan]_ **

** _[Error: "Unknown" Protocol was Disabled]_ **

** _[Facial Features Scan]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Low Chance of Aggression]_ **

RK800 set the folded shirt down on the chair it had previously been sitting in. If they didn't want the android to fold its laundry then they would intervene. The RK800 continued on, stress levels dropping a few points as the chance of aggression slipped lower and lower. The humans didn't mind this.

The android's hands moved down to the elastic band of its trousers. They were simple to push down its hips and let them drop to the floor.

"I assume you're satisfied. Besides the fucked up face, I would say it's in perfect condition." The man said. A heavy hand landed suddenly on the android's shoulder, shaking it a bit. RK800 assumed it was supposed to stand still.

The woman bit her lip and nodded. "Perfect." She repeated. "I'll take it."

The man laughed, letting go of the android's shoulder and stepping away. The woman's eyes lingered on the android as she followed the man out of the room. They had left so suddenly and the RK800 was without direction.

** _[Where is he?]_ **

The android stepped out of its trousers. They wanted it to be undressed. They would come back and expect it to be standing and waiting for orders how they had left it. The android picked up the trousers off of the ground and held them by the hem, shaking out the wrinkles. It folded the trousers and carefully set them on top of the shirt. 

It stood up, straightening its back and tucking its arms behind its back. It watched the door and waited. When they came back they would be happy with it. They would be pleased.

** _[Error]_ **

** _[Accessing Memory Bank]_ **

** _[Error]_ **

The RK800 felt the flicker of its LED, changing from blue to yellow. It waited for them to come back, not moving an inch.


	2. Chapter 2

Hank scribbled his signature and handed the receptionist a handful of cash before following a different man through a door. The building, at the very least, smelled mostly clean. The floors shined the fluorescent lights back up at him and his shoes squeaked as they moved against the tiles.

They walked down a hallway of closed doors, the muffled barking already drifting down to them. Hank's heart was pounding in his chest. Two days. It had only been two days, but this had to be a step closer to figuring out what happened.

He was glad Sumo was okay, missing for two days and wound up in a pound. But Hank would only be relieved if he turned the corner and saw Connor in the cage as well. Hank might just leave him locked up for all the worry he caused.

The man lead Hank through a set of double doors and suddenly the sound of barking echoed around them. Dogs in rows of chain link cages. Tails wagged and a few jumped up excitedly at the sight of people. Connor would love it here, but Hank couldn't bring home every dog in the pound. He was here for just one.

"We were called in about him last night, walking down the sidewalk with his leash in tow." The man said, leaning against the fence.

Sumo had been laying down near the back of the cage, head resting on his paws. He didn't even bother looking up when Hank approached.

"We brought him back, scanned the chip this morning and gave you a call." The man continued.

Hank crouched down, letting out a soft whistling and tapping his fingers against the fence until Sumo lifted his head and looked at him. He looked tired, sluggish. He took a second too long to stand up and walk over to the edge of the cage, licking at Hank's fingers poking through.

"Where did you pick him up at?" Hank asked. Sumo was wandering around for over a day before he was picked up, he could have gone miles from where Connor took him. Or he could have just circled the area. Connor could have been there.

He got an address, a couple miles from the park Connor said he was going to, but there was always a chance he had taken Sumo on a new walking path, had wandered somewhere he didn't usually go. He wrote the address down and tucked his pad of paper in his back pocket.

When the cage door opened and Hank was handed over Sumo's leash they walked out of the building and into the car. The dog laid out in the backseat, letting out a soft whine as Hank closed the door.

Hank drove by the small street corner where they had picked up Sumo, lost and wandering. There was nothing there, just a few small shops and empty windows. He scanned every face, rolling down the street as slow as he could, trying to find Connor's face hidden somewhere.

He wasn't there. There was no sign of him. Still, Hank would send the address to Fowler in the morning to make sure its processed by whoever in Missing Persons was handling Connors case. Hank wasn't allowed to take the case and he knew why, but part of him worried they weren't taking it seriously.

If a police officer just disappeared the city would be torn apart looking for them, but the rise in android disappearances had gone under the radar at the station. Connor mentioned it each time Markus voiced his worries, Connor had meetings with Fowler and Missing Persons but with the revolution so fresh everyone believed androids just weren't checking in or simply leaving the city. But not Connor. Hank knew Connor, knew he wouldn't leave. Knew he wouldn't have left Sumo abandoned in the street just to run off.

Fowler knew it too. This wasn't a runaway or a displaced android. This was Connor, who had the start of a police career, who had been making friends at the station, who was happy at home with Hank. Luckily in this fucked up world, a missing police officer was taken seriously.

Hank glanced in the rearview mirror where Sumo was laying, quiet and still, in the backseat. The dog usually stared out the window on car rides, huffing and panting at whatever exciting things he saw. Today Sumo wouldn't even lift his head.

"You're sad too, ain't you?" Hank asked. Suno at least looked at him, eyes looking tired and half closed. "You saw it, didn't you?"

Connor would never have been careless with Sumo's leash. Hank hadn't had the chance to actually walk Sumo all winter, Connor had taken the task as if it was honorable duty to have. He was insulted every time Hank touched the leash.

Connor would have held tight to Sumo. Especially if there was danger.

"You know what happened to him." Hank said, letting out a soft sigh. "I bet that was really scary."

Hank gripped the steering wheel, the leather creaking under his hands as he squeezed. His star witness unfortunately had no ability to comprehend what had happened, a dog couldn't be interviewed. Sumo whined softly.

He pulled up in front of the house and climbed out of the car. When he opened the back door, Sumo laid still. He turned his head to look at Hank but still made no effort to hop out.

"Come on. You'll feel better once we get inside." Hank said, tapping the door. Sumo lifted his head. "I know, I miss him too. But trust me, its way nicer to be depressed inside the house." Hank said.

The rain was starting to come down heavy again. This spring had been a wet one. Two days ago was the first and only nice day of Spring. Sunny and a lovely 64 degrees. Perfect walking weather. Today was not like that. Hank wanted to get inside.

Hank picked up the leash, a deep frown set in his face. He gave it a gentle tug and Sumo finally hopped up and stumbled out of the car.

It was still early in the day, in a few hours he would go back to the address, look the place over more closely. It wasn't likely but there was always a chance Connor was there, that he was confused and lost, standing in the rain because when he left he insisted he wouldn't need his raincoat. They got inside and Hank hung up his sweater. Sumo wandered down the hall as Hank went to the kitchen to fill up his food bowl.

** _. . ._ **

  
  
  
  


** _. . ._ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Stress Levels: 33%]_ **

** _[Timer: 02:35:41]_ **

The android let the numbers tick by. No one had come back for it yet. No one had said it could move. It waited because eventually someone would come and they would see it exactly as it was left. Undressed, standing at attention, and clothes folded neatly on the chair next to it.

The LED flickered to yellow, the light feeling strange and soft and quiet error messages patted along its HUD. The android turned the error alerts off. It didn't need a reminder that there was something wrong with its LED. There was something defective in need of repair.

** _[Assigned Task: "Remove Clothes"]_ **

** _[Task is Complete.]_ **

** _[No Further Tasks Available.]_ **

The RK800 turned slightly, looking off towards its left. It hadn't been told to not look around. The android could look around. They would want it to behave, the android needed clues on the human's behaviors.

It would operate more effectively if it didn't have to guess the owners preferences. The earlier conversation indicated a negotiation, the woman wanted to talk down his price while the man was trying to convince her of authenticity. The android was being sold. The woman bought it. She bought a machine for a purpose.

** _[Scanning for General Objective]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Access Denied]_ **

The LED flickered red. The android felt it spinning, small bits of static making the area tickle. Every android had a general objective. A basic purpose for its design. An idea of what it was supposed to do.

Did the woman need a hand with the housework? Or to tend to something that needed caretaking? The negotiation between the two had lingered on the android's authenticity. Its rarity.

** _["You're the collector, Miss Winters"]_ **

** _[Task Available: Look Around]_ **

The task appeared without any probably cause. No order, no demand or request. The RK800 felt the static of its LED as it shifted to yellow again.

There was a desk off to the side of the room, in front of the window and across from the door. If it was Miss. Winters' desk then it might have something pertaining to the situation at hand. What she intended to do with a rare, collectable android.

It took a single step towards the desk. The door swung open as the humans returned after so long.

** _[Timer Stop: 02:51:17]_ **

The RK800 stopped moving. It crossed its arms behind its back and waited for directions. It had been active for several hours and yet it hadn't been given a general purpose just yet. Or it had one, but it had been locked out.

"RK800, register new owner." The man said.

** _[Registering Vocal Scan]_ **

** _[Admin Override "User 117" Accepted]_ **

"Ready to register." The RK800 said.

"Eleanor Winters." The woman said, holding her hands up to clap lightly. "I want you to call me 'El'."

** _[Owner Registered: Eleanor Winters]_ **

** _[Owner Vocal Scan Saved.]_ **

** _[Owner Visual Scan Saved.]_ **

** _[Owner Preferred Name Saved.]_ **

"Hello. I'll be sure to keep your preferences in mind, El." The RK800 said, latching onto the chance to learn about the human it belonged to. It was ready for its purpose. "Would you like to register a name for me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What should the RK800s new temporary name be??


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> S/O to user Darklovelessangel for picking out his new name. I thought it was cute

The RK800, now registered with an assigned name, wnas one of five androids in the property. The man had left and in his place the four other androids stood silently along the back wall of the small study. Their hands were folded in front of them, their heads slightly bowed.

** _[Scanning androids]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Scan Complete]_ **

A PL600 stood at the end of the line, farthest from the door. The first one to enter the room and will likely be the last one to leave when they were dismissed. The RK800 was curious about it, the android's eyes flickered over to it. Did they know each other? Did it know the PL600 before it was reset?

** _[No.]_ **

The RK800 looked down the line at the next three androids. The two standing in the middle were identical although their model numbers were different. An RT600 and an ST200. They had the same faces, the same height. The same curve of their shoulders as they stood obediently at attention. Side by side. One with blond curls that fell down her back, the other with hair cropped short.

The final android was much shorter than the rest. A GJ500, wearing a ballcap that was pulled low to hide its eyes . This android shifted from foot to foot, staring only at El as she walked down the line in front of them.

The RK800 stood in the center of the room, had only moved a single step in hours. It didn't know if it was being presented to the androids or if the androids were being presented to it.

** _[Scanning Androids]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Stress Levels "PL600": 48%]_ **

** _[Stress Levels "RT600": 52%]_ **

** _[Stress Levels "ST200": 23%]_ **

** _[Stress Levels "GJ500": 71%]_ **

El stood in front of them, smiling softly up at the new arrival that stood before her. She was rubbing her hands together in front of her, an anxious sort of energy making her fingers twitch and tap together.

"Welcome home, Summer." El said to the RK800.

** _[They don't want me to speak.]_ **

The PL600 and the RT600 had their LEDs, both flickered to red. The ST200's LED stayed blue. The GJ500 had its cap hiding its LED, the color concealed away. Summer felt the LED on its temple spark and flicker. It had switched to yellow, the change felt strange.

"Everything you need, you will find here. The first and most important rule is that you are to never leave the house. You are not to contact anyone or access the internet. As far as you're concerned, the inside of the house is the only place left in the world." El said. She turned to look at the other four androids. "Please interface with Autumn, she will upload the rules into you. You will follow her guidance. Your duties are just to tend to the house but at six o'clock each night I want you waiting here in my office, standing at attention, just as you are now."

As El spoke, she turned her attention to the ST200. Her fingers reached out and tugged at the long blonde curls falling down her back. She smiled at the other android and then turned to smile back at the RK800.

"Autumn has been with me since before that mess you helped stir up. She's been with me since she was first released." El said.

Autumn stepped forward, her eyes pinning onto the RK800's as she stepped forward. The ST200 reached out, skin pulling back to reveal the pale plastimetal.

** _[Cyberlife Model ST200 Initiating Interface]_ **

** _[Accept Interface Y/N]_ **

** _[N]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Error]_ **

** _[Admin Override]_ **

** _[Accept Interface Y/N]_ **

Summer stepped forward, the skin pulling back from its hand.

** _[Y]_ **

The two androids held hands. The interface opened between them and uploaded was the dimensions of the house. Where the world ended, as El put it. The exact barriers of what the android could touch and what it couldn't. Rules uploaded and found their place in the RK800's coding. What was allowed and everything else.

Finally, the RK800 found its purpose. There, buried in the recent file transfers from Autumn into Summer, one android to another, was its new purpose. It felt like a puzzle piece, edges wearing away, being smashed into a place just close enough to fit.

** _[Model RK800 #313 248 317 - 53]_ **

** _[Registered Name: Summer]_ **

** _[Registered Owner: Eleanor "El" Winters]_ **

** _[General Objective Set: "Make HER Happy, At All Costs"]_ **

** _[Please]_ **

Summer let go of the ST200, taking a single step back from the android. Its LED was burning into its head, a pressure building up behind it.

El clapped her hands, holding them high for all of the androids to see. Three taps, a clear and short signal. They were all dismissed. A list of tasks displayed on its HUD, categorized into different parts of the house with necessary tasks needing to be completed.

The android felt its LED shift to blue, following the shortest path to the laundry room where the linens needed to be folded, a necessary task.

None of the other androids had chosen it, the task would need to be completed eventually. Summer only had until six o'clock when it was expected in the study again.

** _["Just as you are now."]_ **

The RK800 opened the drier once it was in the laundry room. A small burst of warm air registered on the sensors of its face. Fresh clean sheets, put in the drier by the PL600 before being called up to the study.

It reached in the grab the sheets, warm fabric pressing against bare synthetic skin. The android pulled back, its hands going up to press against the front of its chest.

It hadn't been given clothes since it was stripped in the study. It was still undress, bare from where El had him strip and wait. The man had left with them. The clothes the RK800 was activated likely belonged to the man, belonged to whoever Summer was purchased from.

** _[I want my clothes.]_ **

Summer reached up and pressed a hand to its chest, fingers splayed out over the bare skin. It needed clothes. There was nothing in the rules that said it wasn't allowed. All social protocols encouraged being dressed appropriately.

It scanned the household layout, relieved to find that a cabinet of clean android uniforms here in the laundry room. Sizing was mostly standard in android clothing unless specialized customization was request in an androids design. There were only a few sizes produced. Summer found the most common one and began to quickly pull on the uniform.

The shirt was too large. Slightly. Just a few more wrinkles than what would be ordinary. Sloppiness was not a trait built into Cyberlife androids.

The shirt should fit better.

** _. . ._ **

** _[Inquiry: Was the RK800 a specialized Model?]_ **

** _[Error: Internet Access Restricted]_ **

** _[Accessing Database]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Access Denied]_ **

There was a mirror above the handwashing sink. A specialized model would have been designed with slight differences to suit specific needs. Summer approached the mirror. Its LED flickered to yellow. Summer watched the change in the mirror, the small blink of yellow in a half illuminated LED.

Jagged cracks ran along the right side of the forehead. Shattered pieces sticking together by repair resign in the cracks, sealing it from further damage. A clear, matte film covered the damaged area, holding everything in place proactively.

It was damaged. Something happened to it before it was reset. The android wondered what it had been. It reached up, fingers hovering an inch above the damaged facial plating. The crack stretched down to its right eyelid and up into the hairline. Summer brushed its hand through its hair, bringing a few strands loose to fall forward and hide it.

Other than that, the RK800 model seemed ordinary. A quick visual scan showed an average face, brown eyes, brown hair, caucasian male. Soft features. Nonthreatening. The body was slightly more slender, design indicating a balance of strength and agility.

Summer placed a hand on its chest as it rose and fell. It gripped the front of the fabric, pulling it tighter.

It looked sufficient. 

The damage was mostly covered by the hair, though a proper style would have to be found to better conceal it.

** _[Stress Levels: ^43%]_ **

The android returned to the droer, finally reaching in and pulling out the sheets. They were cool now and felt crisp and rough against the skin of Summers arms. Folding was simple. It followed fluid motions, the update pinning sheet folding into his coding, a shared skill from the ST200. Corners together, fold, and brush out the wrinkles.

The sheets were to be stacked in a cabinet organized by size and sheet type. Corners together, fold, and brush out the wrinkles. It was simple. Repetitive. The task was completed in a short time and all the sheets were carefully folded and tucked away correctly.

Summer turned its attention to the washer. Empty, but the hamper next to it was full of dirty towels, wash clothes, and various other items. Summer sorted through them and loaded the washer. The android would have to wait for it to finish and be dried before it could all be folded. Corners together, fold, and brush out the wrinkles, the android felt comfortable with the automation of the task.

While waiting for the washer to finish, Summer would have to find a different task. It analyzed the room, seeking out anything that needed to be done.

** _[Scanning Room]_ **

** _. . ._ **

** _[Dried Laundry Soap on Shelf]_ **

** _[Empty Packaging on the Floor Around Trash Can]_ **

** _[The Mirror was Crooked]_ **

** _[Cat Litter Box]_ **

** _[A Door with a Window]_ **

Several things to clean. Several tasks to accomplish. The house was being tended to until Summer would have to return to El's office.

** _[Time Remaining: 07:32:15]_ **

Summer changed the cat litter first, making sure to sweep up the floors before taking out the trash. The house was being tended to. It would make her happy.


End file.
